Free Murder in Vail by Judy Moore Page B

A photograph of a waterfall flowing down into a mountain stream was clipped to the easel. The painting of the waterfall scene was half finished.
    “You’re painting this?” Rachel asked her, surprised. “It’s really good.”
    Sally smiled and walked over to stand next to Rachel in front of the easel.
    “Thank you. I took the photo on a drive up to Leadville a couple of summers ago. I’ve been meaning to paint it ever since. I finally made the time.”
    Rachel glanced at the other paintings around the room. “Oh my gosh. You painted all of these, didn’t you?”
    Sally nodded and smiled. “Over the years. I like painting landscapes.”
    “I’ve always wanted to learn how to paint.”
    “I didn’t know that,” Sally said, surprised. “I’d be happy to show you how to get started while you’re here, if you’d like.”
    “Really? I would like that,” Rachel responded with a little smile. “I think it might help me take my mind off things, you know?”
    “Yes. I definitely agree. Painting is very therapeutic. When you’re painting, you get lost in your own little world.”
    Sally was pleased that her daughter-in-law was showing interest in such a positive pastime and wanted to do anything she could to encourage it.
    “Just let me know when you feel like getting started. I have another easel and some extra canvases and brushes that you can have.”
    “Maybe tomorrow?” Rachel said, her eyes lighting up.
    “Tomorrow would be great. I’ll look forward to it, Rachel.”
    Sally walked over to the bureau and started going through it to find a change of clothes for the next day. But she felt so tired that she couldn’t focus on everything she would need.
    “Rachel will you do me just one favor?” Sally asked. “Would you please not lock the door? I’ll need to come in early tomorrow morning to get some clothes. I promise I’ll be quiet and won’t wake you up or get in your way.”
    “Sure,” Rachel shrugged. “I don’t need to lock it now anyway.”
    Rachel walked over to Sally and gave her a hug.  “It’s really nice of you to do all of this for me.”
    Sally was surprised and touched at the gesture. “I’m happy to, Rachel. We’ll have fun painting tomorrow.”
    Sally gathered her things and went to the door. “You just eat your sandwich and get a good night’s sleep, dear. I’ll see you in the morning.”
    Sally quietly shut the door and tiptoed down the opposite hallway to Lance’s room. She crawled into Lance’s bed and, relieved that one major problem was taken care of, fell asleep quickly and slept soundly through the night.
    Chapter Twenty-one

    Sally awoke with a start. For a moment, as she looked around the room at the model airplanes hanging from the ceiling and the baseball cards lining the walls, she didn’t know where she was. Then it all came back to her. She was in Lance’s room.
    The house is quiet. It must be early, she thought. The angle of the sun coming into the bedroom seemed very low, so she guessed it was around seven oʼclock or so. She went into the adjoining bathroom and found a furry brown bathrobe that she recognized as one she’d given to Lance a couple of years ago. Slipping it on, she stepped out onto the balcony.
    It was cold, much colder than yesterday. The snowfall was still heavy, but the winds had settled down some. She glanced over to check out the swimming pool. About a foot of snow covered the patio. The lawn chairs were invisible, and the water’s surface had more leaves than normal, but steam rose off the pool, and it looked swimmable.
    She turned the television on low volume to listen to the weather report. Outer bands of the storm hit overnight. The full-fledged storm would come in this afternoon. Swimming didn’t look impossible, and it would do her good. If the storm was as bad as it looked like it would be, swimming would be out of the question for two or three days. A day like this definitely pushed her limits, but Sally needed the